


PAID IN FULL

by blackillya



Category: startrek
Genre: Historical References, Inspired by Novel, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:44:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackillya/pseuds/blackillya
Summary: Leonard Mc Coy finds out the true reason Spock choose him to hold his katra





	PAID IN FULL

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written under my real name. Takes place after Star Trek: The Search for Spock. Why did McCoy choose the danger? My curious wanted to know. The results is this story and the fun of writing it.

Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise, sat before the now dark fire shrine that had once been more a part of this room than any other piece of furniture, and a part of the life of the Vulcan who had lived here. Part of McCoy had no idea why he was here, yet the other part could have recited the reasons, precisely and logically, stilling all further queries.

Yes...the other part....

**"You are suffering from a Vulcan mind-meld, Doctor," James T. Kirk had said, a half-serious smile lighting the handsome face.**

McCoy remembered his own sarcastic remark at the time; but, with the events of the past few days... This was serious work indeed.

So, here he sat, lured here by so many restless nights...and a voice...a very familiar voice.

"A11 right, whoever you are, I'm here. What do you want?"

// I see you still have not learned patience, Doctor.//

"Spock??"

//Indeed.//

"Then...L Was right! You did meld with me!"

//Not precisely, Doctor. What I did was infuse you with my katra.//

"Your whosit?"

//My katra...my living essence. Pll that makes me unique unto myself.//

"Oh. You mean your soul."

//You owe me a debt, Doctor.//

"Oh? How do you figure that?"//"

Recollection should prove to be self-explanatory. Empty your mind of all thoughts, present and future. Concentrate only on the past—let your mind float backward...backward...

McCoy found that he could not fight the powerful hypnosis produced by the sudden deepness of Spock's voice.

Yes...yes...backward hark to another time...another world...

A blue and white orb, set in a shimmering eternal sea of blackness and silver, filled his mind. Earth. Further on his mind sped, past the atmosphere, the mountains; like a swift horse it galloped overseas, across vast deserts and plains, over small villages, big towns and great cities until, at last, it. came to settle...

Here, Spock's voice whispered to him. "Remember."

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Eumenes the Greek watched the two naked figures swimming in the hidden pool...his vantage point the sturdy ring of great trees which encircled it, hiding it from the nearby palace. The taller boy was trying to push the head of the shorter one under, but his attempts were futile, the smaller boy always moving out of range of the reaching arms, the powerful young legs kicking water into the other's face..

For a while this 'battle' continued, and at one point it seemed as if the taller boy would succeed. But suddenly, with a grace worthy of Neptune himself, the shorter figure disappeared beneath the water, leaving his 'hunter' momentarily bewildered.

Eumenes, however, had seen where the prey had chosen for his lair. Despite himself he had to smile with pride at the stroke of cleverness. His attention was drawn back to the pool by the taller one's voice...

"You cannot escape me, my prince," he said, as he stood with hands planted on hips like some young god. White teeth flashed in the growing darkness, a loving smile curving the full lips. "I have all escape routes covered, my Alexander. Surrender is your only course of action!"

"Nay, Hephaistion! You have forgotten that which can sail upon the winds!"

Hephaistion's eyes followed the voice, finally coming to rest on what Eumenes had already seen. High upon the limb of a tree next to the pool stood Alexander, poised like a golden bird...legs together, arms outstretched like wings. The smile which lit the exquisite features and curved the perfect lips matched that of his companion below.

"So, there you are, my golden eagle," Hephaistion crooned.

"True. Yet that is for eagles with claws and wings...and you possess neither."

The smile faded but did not entirely disappear; grey eyes smoldered with the beginning flames of passion. "Then, 0 mighty one," Alexander called mockingly, "what have I to offer thee?"

Hunger no food could ever appease blazed in Hephaestion's eyes. The answer was a husky whisper. "Yourself."

"So' be it!"

As good as his word, Alexander—fifteen-year-old heir to the throne of Macedon--dove from the limb to land safe and sound into the waiting arms below. Instantly, lips met and two bodies sank slowly into the moonlit waters of the pool.

His handsome face marked with lines of malice and envy, Eumenes was so engrossed in the scenario that he had not heard the approach of Alexander's hunting dogs. Having been trained that no one but their master and his friend were allowed in this place, they swiftly attacked.

"By Great Zeus's Beard...Wha...!! MERCY!!"

"What is it?" The commotion had brought the two boys to the surface.

The nearest guard, who had rushed after the dogs to discover what they were after, pointed to Eumenes, still held fast by the strong jaws. "It seems, Alexander, that they have caught a spy," he replied with suppressed amusement.

All eyes were now on Eumenes. "Indeed," Alexander commented. "Release!" he commanded, and was instantly obeyed. "I am sure that Eumenes' discretion can be counted upon." He leaned toward the older man. "Can it not? Can I feel certain that neither my mother nor my father will hear a word of what has transpired here?"

Eumenes met the penetrating grey eyes with a stare of his own. "As you wish it, Alexander," he replied grudgingly.

"Excellent," Alexander nodded approvingly. "I really had no doubt of it."

"Nor did I," Hephaestion put in "After all, Alexander, I am certain that your father would not be pleased to know that his Chief Secretary was unworthy of his trust..." He smiled grimly at the glowering Eumenes.

The older man's gaze never wavered from Alexander's face. "Have I your leave to depart, prince?"

Both boys nodded.

Silently he picked himself up, dusted off his chiton, and left, the sound of their laughter ringing in his ears. "Laugh, Hephaestion, while you stand in Plexander's shadow, he thought. One day the last laugh shall be mine!"

*********************************************

Do you remember, Doctor?

Helpless in the grip of the Katra-meld, McCoy nodded; his usually gentle, craggy features were twisted into a mask of pain and envy.

//Yes, I can see that you do, Now you will follow my instructions closely, for they will insure proof of the coming exchange between us, and you will know what to do with that proof when the time comes. Are you prepared?//

"i am prepared."

//Upon my command, then, you will rise and prepare my computer to record. Do you understand?//

A nod.

//Very well Proceed.//

McCoy rose, made his way to Spock's desk, unlocked the mechanism and extracted a blank tape. He sat at the computer, initiated the proper verbal commands, and inserted the tape. The room was filled momentarily with the whirrs and clicks of the machine warming up, and then with its steady hum. Satisfied, McCoy returned to the fire shrine.  
"It's done, Spock."

//Good. From hence, this exchange, of necessity, shall be verbal. I shall separate myself from you mentally—yet you will continue to cooperate.//

"In other words, it'll look like I'm having a conversation with myself, but separate voices will be heard."

//Precisely, Doctor. Let us proceed.//

To McCoy, the slight mental separation was like hanging up a phone after a very long conversation...a great relief; yet, he knew that other presence was still there.  
"Okay. What now?"

Spock's voice filled the room. "More questions, Doctor, and more memories. Are you ready?"

The 'real' McCoy wanted to say 'not really'; instead, he snapped, "Let's get on with it. I haven't got all day."

An exasperated sigh, then, "As you wish. We shall now take up the question of the event which exacerbated the enmity between us, and alienated us both from Alexander. Tell me now why you presumed to lodge your people in the Guest House on the palace grounds, when you knew--as I did--that Alexander had reserved it for Evios, the flautist?"

An expression of contempt crossed McCoy's face. "Was I less than a mere flautist to him, then?"

"You know in your heart that question is unnecessary. It was not the fact of what you meant to him, it was a principle. He had reserved this place for a guest. You should have gone to him first to be reminded if you had forgotten the plan..."

"I had not forgotten!" McCoy's voice was angry now. "My rank was above this flautist; I should have been entitled to quarter my people there. You, however, not Alexander, were the one who turned us out."

"True. I turned you out but I did it in Alexander's name. Do you not remember the conversation with him...the one that really led to our quarrel? Remember, Doctor..."

"Only if you'll remember your own reprimand—given by Alexander at the same time."

"Justly asked." Spock's voice took on an hypnotic quality once more. "Let us remember, then...."

************************************************************************************************************************

"Alexander!"

Alexander smiled to himself as he recognized the voice.

"What, I wonder, has made the gentle bull roar this time?" he whispered to Bagoas, his favorite courtesan.

The beautiful young Persian boy shrugged and returned his lord's smile, "I know not Al'skander, but the offense must have been great indeed, for the roar was mighty."

Both laughed; unfortunately, the timing was just as Eumenes entered the room. The smiles on both faces faded.

"You wish to see me, Eumenes?" Alexander inquired politely. "1 do, Alexander." Eumenes' eyes fell coldly on Bagoas. "In private," he added.

"Ask it of Bagoas, It is his lesson you disturbed,"

Eumenes was hard-pressed to control his temper. "it is of importance, King,- he said formally.

Alexander sighed. "Very well." To Bagoas, "Nill you excuse me for a while? You may come back in half an hour." He gave Bagoas' hand a gentle, reassuring pat, after which the favored eunuch departed. "Now," he addressed Eumenes, "what is so important that you disturb our relaxation?"

"It is Hephaestion."

Alexander was all business now. "Oh? And what has he done?"

"He has turned my people out of the Guest House without my permission."

"In that case he did right. And who gave YOU permission to set up your people there in the first place? The Guest House was reserved for Evios the flautist, by my own word,"

Eumenes was livid. "Then he should have come to me, Alexander, and asked ME to remove my people."

"And I tell you that your people should not have been there in the beginning, without MY permission. In that, Hephaestion was correct! Was he rough with them?"

"He was--and rude as well."

"Very well." Alexander went to the door, whispered something to the guard, and re-entered. Moments later, the guard returned with Hephaestion in tow. The guard was dismissed.

"Hephaestion," said the king, "I seek the truth. Eumenes tells me you put his people out of the Guest House."

"It is truth, Alexander."

"And how did you address them?"

"I did not. I merely had my men bodily remove them."

"You threw them out, then? On the ground?"

Hephaestion drew himself up to his full height; his eyes spitfire at Eumenes. "No, Alexander. I did not throw them out onto the ground. My men escorted them into the street and told them to find other lodging, informing them that the Guest House was reserved by YOUR order."

Alexander looked at Eumenes. "This is true?"

Eumenes' eyes narrowed in anger, but he knew better than to lie to Alexander. "It is."

"I see," Alexander rose and came to stand before them both. "Now hear me, both of you, Eumenes, before you presume that due to your rank you can do as you please, do remember who commands here. And you, Hephaestion; if you would command nen, you must learn to address them properly. Rudeness is not a trait I value in those who speak in my name, You did right by your duty; but remember that we are civilized men. Is that clear to you, as well?" Hephaestion nodded. "Good. You may both depart. I trust I will not hear of this again.". A statement, not a question.

Eumenes and Hephaestion left together. It was fortunate that Alexander did not see the looks exchanged between them.

Neither of them ever knew that one Persian boy did.

*****************************************************************************************

"Is your memory becoming clearer, Doctor?"

"Clear enough!" McCoy spat. "And yours?" The question was suffused with remembered humiliation.

"Clear...and painful. It angered me toward Alexander for longer than I could bear..."

"Of course, YOU were forgiven."

A sigh. "Yes. I was forgiven... It would please me to remember that day. Shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, the voice continued, "Summer had come to Ekbatana. We had ridden into the hills, fresh with summer grass and the sweet scent of roses. We were silent as we searched for a secluded spot. We knew the time had come for talking, that the estrangement had gone on too long...."

*****************************************************

"Tell me what troubles you," Alexander asked the companion who lay next to him, staring up at the cloudless summer sky.

Hephaestion gave an exasperated sigh, "You know very well what troubles me." He heard the sharpness in his voice, yet did not care. Up here, away from all prying eyes and duties, it was simply Alexander and Hephaestion, not king and subject. Hephaestion suddenly turned onto his side, facing Alexander; the handsome face was a mask of pain. "How could you, Alexander? 

How could you have degraded me so?"

Refusing to be angered by Hephaestion's mounting temper, Alexander remained calm. He had been expecting this for some time. "It was necessary," was his simple reply.

Hephaestion's jaw dropped slightly at Alexander's words. So often had he heard those words connected with some misdeed that had forced his friend to suspend a soldier, or sentence someone to death. He had never, never expected to hear them concerned with him. As the words sank in, his jaw set in anger. He sat up and looked down at his friend, who lay watching 'm, unperturbed. "So, it was necessary, was it? I, who have always stood at your side; I. who have killed for you. 1, who have listened to your complaints about your mother; I, who have--"

"You who have told me that what is good for one is good for all You who know in your deepest heart that you could not have respected me, nor followed me again, had I reprimanded him--and not you as well." Alexander sat up and leaned closer to his friend SO that 'they were eye to eye. "Tell me, with all the honesty in your soul, by the- love you swear for me, that I was in error."

Hephaestion's eyes lowered before the penetrating gaze.

"No!" Alexander commanded. "Look me in the face and tell me!"

Hephaestion, who had done many things in his short lifetime, knew that one of them was never to lie to this beloved man. **How is it he knows me better than I know myself; or, for that matter, that I know him better than any other?** He decided to voice this thought with his reply. Bravely he met his companion's gaze. "You know I cannot tell you a lie." 

For as long as they had known each other, Hephaestion was never prepared for the special smile Alexander gave to him alone; his courage mounted with it. "Alexander, how is it we know each other so well?"

Alexander reached out a hand, tenderly running it down the other's cheek, revelling in the sensations he knew it caused his friend. "It is our destiny," he replied softly. "It has been Since the beginning of time; it shall be until its ending. Have you not felt it?"

Felt it? Why do you think you have been my only thought since the day our eyes first met? "Yes. I have. My heart, my very soul has been imbued with it. 1--I have never really understood why until now. I have never realized just how much you mean to me... 1--I used to think it just loyalty, gratitude, but...."

Alexander was all attention, He so loved it when they were alone and Hephaestion would talk openly to him. 'True friends share everything', they had once pledged together; therefore, everything shared with him by Nephaestion was precious to him. "But what, Hephaestion? When did it change?"

Hephaestion smiled, reached out and returned the caress. "When we watched the foxes that day, so long ago. We were so close together, and I held you in my arms. I--I wanted to stay there forever, and love you..." His voice broke off as a slow blush spread across his face.

"Why, Hephaestion," Alexander's smile was teasing, loving, "did you blush? Am I that awesome a presence? Am..."

Nephaestion decided that the time for talking was over. Alexander agreed with his love's method of communicating this fact.

The rest of the day was spent in forgiveness and sweet reaffirmations.

************************************************************************************

"It was noticed when the two of you finally decided to return to camp."

"Tell me, Doctor--was it our closeness that has always troubled you, or was it only that instance?"

"You know full well what my feelings for Alexander were. You always stood between us."

"So, that was what caused the change in him!" McCoy hissed. "Indeed. And I have no doubt that these were the thoughts you bore when I fell ill."

"I could endure no more. I knew you must die."

"Of course. And with my death, you believed Alexander would turn to you."

"Why not? I had known him long before you arrived on the scene. I was with his father when he was born."

"So you have often boasted. But you had forgotten Bagoas, then?"

"Bagoas! Bagoas! Damn him! You speak his name now with reverence, yet I know you hated him as I did."

"No, Doctor, not hatred. I was jealous of him; I endured him for Alexander's sake. He loved the king as well as we did--for that I am deeply grateful to him. But one last question, Doctor; how did you manage to get solid food to me? After all, Glaukias, the physician..."

"Glaukias was a fool!" An ironic smile lit McCoy's face. "Ah, but to answer you--that was simple. Slaves are such handy creatures to have at one's command.... Too bad the doctor did not live to share in my triumph. Shall I remember THAT event?"

Spock caught the fear and guilt in the voice. "You have no choice. It is the reason for this meeting."

A defeated sigh. "Very well, let's get on with it."

"Then...proceed."

McCoy closed his eyes. Once more images filled his mir'd--part of him fervently praying it was for the last time....

************************************************************************************

The camp seethed with the news: Hephaestion, friend and right hand to Alexander, was gravely ill. Alexander had summoned a renowned physician to care for him. And the king was bravely deciding to go on with the training Games, leaving his friend in the capable hands of Glaukias.

Eumenes snorted. He had first heard the news shortly after their reprimand before the army. He smiled as he remembered Alexander's words: 'I order you to renounce this quarrel under pain of death. If it breaks out again, you will both be tried for treason. The proven aggressor will suffer the usual penalty. I shall not commute itm7 Now the lover lies near death, and Alexander's soul is weary from worrying. He needs comfort. And who better than I for comfort...for loyalty...

With these thoughts, he had put on his best behavior like his finest robes. He had gone to visit Hephaestion every day, had inquired of the physician about his progress when the patient was asleep. Thus he had learned that Hephaestion was recovering, that he might live after all. **No! This must not be! Not when I am so close. He must die--now!**

And it came to pass that all these thoughts were fresh in his mind as he strode purposefully toward the sickroom. The guard greeted him at the door.

"I am sorry, Lord Eumenes, but no one but the king and the physician is permitted to enter."

Eumenes' face bore the proper mask of concern. "Is he worse, then?"

The young guard frowned. "Not as bad as before, but the doctor is with him, and does not wish for him to be disturbed. The king has left instructions for him to be fed only on slops, as solid food is as bad as poisoned water or wine."

Eumenes smiled. "Of course, of course it is, I am sure the doctor--"

They were interrupted by the great door opening, and Glaukias the physician stepped out into the corridor. "Go down to the kitchen and tell the cooks I want the day's slops brought up to Lord Hephaestion."

"As you wish, Doctor—but who will guard the door?"

"Oh, that. Nell, it will not take long. I will take responsibility for your absence. Hasten, now."

The young guard hurried away.

"Good man," Glaukias muttered, then noticed the other standing by. "Eumenes, it is good of you to visit. Might I help you?"

The Greek gave a tiny smile. "Might I see Hephaestion? Just for a moment, if it is allowed. The men are concerned..."

Glaukias nodded, returning the smile. "Of course. He is a little better now, and though he might not know you are there--he is still too weak to be alert--I am sure your presence will be of comfort to him. Come in."

"I thank you." Eumenes entered the room and moved to the side of Hephaestion's bed. As timing—and perhaps Fate—would have it, the food arrived, Glaukias, ever cautious and dedicated to his profession, made a thorough examination of the broth-laden tray; he, too, was aware of the mystique that surrounded the king and his patient. He knew that his life, as much as his patient's, was at stake.

But Glaukias, for all his skills, had one very serious fault: he was far too trusting.

Eumenes had counted on this and when the physician's back was turned, he slipped a small piece of meat onto the tray beside the bed. He had long since thanked his gods that the patient was slightly feverish and not fully conscious. Again, whether it was Fate or his own good timing, his plan was running smoothly. When the day ended the lover would be dead, and Alexander at last within his grasp. It was time to leave.

"My thanks to you, Glaukias, for allowing me to see him. Indeed, he does look somewhat better, though still a little feverish. Do you think the slops will help him?"

"Oh, they should. He will need something in his stomach that will stay down. There has been little luck with that of late. I think the worst is past."

"Excellent!" Eumenes exclaimed, showing the proper relief.

"1 shall petition the gods to will it so, Until then." He swept from the room.

While all this was going on, the young slave had moved to Hephaestion's bedside, spotted the piece of meat and added it to the steaming bowl, carefully cutting it into bite-sized chunks, then stirring them in. As required of all slaves, he tasted his handiwork and pronounced it delicious. He stood by the bed, awaiting the order to begin feeding the patient.  
Glaukias, having closed the door behind Eumenes, turned back to his patient. With infinite care, he and the young slave raised the sick man to a sitting position, and the slave went about his task. Half an hour later, both left the room.

An hour after that, the guard outside the door heard a most horrible cry, then... "ALEXANDER!"

He rushed into the room to find that Hephaestion, beloved friend of his king, had joined the gods. Terror giving his feet wings, he returned to the top of the stairs,  
"Summon the king!" he cried.

The cry was carried through the corridors where it finally reached the outside guards, bringing Alexander on the run before the echoes could die—

"Thus Alexander was driven half-mad with grief...and all because of your envy of us...and your ego." A long silence, then; "Was it worth it? Did you feel any more secure in your position after I had gone? Did you find peace? Were you any more loved? Were--"

A low moan rose in McCoy's throat, swelled, until it filled the room. "ENOUGH! Damn you! Enough! Let it rest!"

A compassionate sigh. "It will now, Leonard--and so can you. There is just one more thing."

A great sigh of relief. "Yes?"

"Upon my command, you will empty your mind of this conversation, shut down my computer and extinguish the fireshrine. The tape we have made here you will secure in your quarters. When the time comes to use it, you will know. Do you understand?"

"Gotcha, Spock."

"I shall not comment on that particular phrasing, Leonard. It is time. Proceed."

Fifteen minutes later, Leonard McCoy left Spock's quarters unobserved.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

MUCH LATER....

"Bones!"

Leonard McCoy turned to see Jim Kirk heading toward him, the long stride filled with purpose. McCoy smiled in greeting. "Hiya, Jim,-boy. What's new  
"  
Jim Kirk returned his friend's smile. "Shouldn't I be asking you that, Doctor?" Then seriously, "Bones, now that it's all over, I've got to ask--why did you choose the danger? I mean, you had no idea of Vulcan customs, and l''Lar said you didn't have to. So, why?" A pause. "And don't hand me any bull about it being just to save Spock's life." This time, along with the seriousness, the tone carried a trace of teasing.

McCoy slapped his palm across his knee. "Darn it, Jim, you never let me have any fun!"

Both men laughed, breaking some of the tension which the event= of the past few hours had placed on them.

"But, seriously..." McCoy reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and extracted a tape he had been carrying—without questioning why—through all the recent events. A voice in his mind told him, Mow. This is the proper time. He laid it in Jim's hand. "Let's just call it...a debt paid in full."

Not waiting for a reply, Leonard McCoy, son of David and Eleanor, walked away, very much at peace--leaving a very puzzled and extremely curious James Kirk behind.


End file.
